Why My Boomer Parents Call My X Habit an Unhealthy Addiction

Do you have an unhealthy addiction? Smoking, alcohol, gambling, toxic relationships, gaming, work… or X?

As I wrote in my bio, I’m proudly an X addict.

Honestly, I still have no clue if it’s unhealthy.

Some people say yes, especially my boomer parents.

For them I’m glued to my phone, pouring time and energy into an app that doesn’t pay me.

They think I’ve lost control.

But I always argue: this isn’t just “social media.”

I’ve met important people here.

I keep in touch through posts, replies, consistent little interactions.

I carry their names and stories with me.

It was never a numbers game for me.

For my parents it only stops being an addiction the day I make a living from it.

When I mention X they immediately ask:

“How many followers did you gain this month?

How much did X pay you?

What’s the point if you could just get a 9-5 and stable money?

You’re not an influencer, you know.”

So what are you doing on X?

Or on any other platform?

Does LinkedIn or YouTube make it suddenly legitimate?

Meanwhile they judge us while casually talking about “that successful businessman who made six figures on TikTok this year” or “the Chinese woman with the white husband and five kids in a tourist city” like they personally know them.

They’re consuming social media too, just not mine.

Did those internet celebrities start with 2 million followers?

Were they born influencers?

Or did they begin at zero, same as us?

You might not want to connect with me or support me today because I’m nobody, an internet loser.

But ten years from now you could be telling people:

“I knew them back then. I was there early. I felt proud to be part of it.”

We can all be angel investors in someone’s future.

Early supporters get the most precious connection.

Because creators always remember the rare ones who showed up when it was quiet, when we were still building, when doubt was loud.

Those people believed in the vision.

They gave strength when we forgot why we started.

They’re not followers, they’re emotional investors, guides, north stars, living proof we’re going the right way.

Long-distance friends you eventually call, send postcards to, meet, start real projects with.

Following someone big for entertainment? Zero real connection.

I’ve engaged Elon hundreds of times, he doesn’t know I exist.

But my moots do.

That matters way more.

I’m a small creator, but I matter.

Maybe not to you, but to someone my words and my existence are valuable.

And you matter to me too.

Even though I’m still nobody, when I read your post and engage, I mean it.

I’m not just a number on your screen, not a pixel.

I exist right now. I breathe, I feel, I have dreams, struggles, a whole life.

Would you choose 1 million bots with fake likes and replies…

or one real person who can actually feel you?

Humans aren’t perfect.

But we’re the only reason these platforms feel alive, inspiring, meaningful.